Realization
by twinklingstar95
Summary: Tifa contemplated, but the fact hit Cloud just when she said so. CloTi.


Cloud caught a glimpse of Tifa walking past his room, heading to the children's room which—he just recognized, since he was currently immersed in his book—hadn't quite down despite it being half past ten in the evening. He then heard words coming out of Tifa, but couldn't make up of what it was. Magically—though usual—the kids stopped chattering. The spiky-haired smiled at this; Tifa's always been good at taking care of their kids.

_Wait,_ their_ kids? Where did that word come from?_

Cloud ruffled his hair, not caring if he'd wake up with a cowlick or anything tomorrow. Something must have messed up with his mind. Maybe it was the late night thinking, or his complicated book, or maybe…

"Hi, Cloud."

The after-mentioned man almost jumped in surprise, but he kept his composure and turned his head to her instead. "Hi, Tifa. What's up?" he replied.

Tifa walked in and sat on the other side of his bed. "Nothing, just feeling like checking up on you." she said as she smiled.

That motherly smile had always succeeded in doing things to him. That smile that was somehow mixed with sadness, exhaust, care, and… love, all at the same time.

Cloud, not wanting to disappoint her, closed his book and put it away. "Why don't we talk then?" he offered with another smile. He didn't fail to catch the surprise in her eyes as he said so, and he had to admit that it felt good to see it.

"Sure," she said anyway. "What to talk about?" she added as she casually changed her position from sitting to lying down on his bed, her body facing the ceiling.

Cloud didn't reply rightaway. He thought about any kind of things, from the kids to Yuffie's rambling until Vincent's surprising little tantrum the other day, but still didn't come up with any ideas to strike a conversation.

Tifa turned her body until she was facing the blonde guy and started playing with the sleeve of his white shirt absentmindedly. Cloud took a glimpse of her doing so and tried his best to ignore her indirect touch, as well as the red spots that had crept their ways to his pale cheeks.

_Seriously, what is wrong with me?_

"You know, Cloud…," she began—much to his relief.

"Hm?"

"I was wondering… What if, just what if…," she paused, seemingly hesitant before she finally continued. "What if instead of Aerith… I… was the one who died…?" her voice was timid, small, and barely a whisper, but Cloud heard it as clear and as loud as the bang of Barret's gun.

He was at loss for words. That imagination-based question from her had never, _ever_, crossed his mind. What if Tifa left him? What if Aerith was the one lying beside him right now?

He shuddered at the scary thought.

Not liking the awkward atmosphere, Cloud killed some times by grabbing a blanket at the end of the bed and he spread it, then he carefully put it over Tifa, tightening it when it reached her shoulder.

Much to his surprise, she continued talking.

"Would you remember me then, Cloud?" she chuckled miserably. "Maybe you wouldn't. You will have a better life, instead. And Marlene and Denzel will have a better mom for them, and—"

"Stop it, Tifa." he couldn't stand hearing more of that. "Please."

Tifa tilted her head upwards to meet his disbelieving, concerned gaze. When he didn't say anything more, she buried half of her head into the pillow that scented so much like him it was driving her crazy.

"Sorry…," she muttered. "I was just wondering. Nevermind what I said, okay?" she said without looking at him.

Moments passed in silence, and when Cloud hesitantly turned his head to look at her, she was already deep in her sleep. The barmaid must've been exhausted after a long Friday.

Cloud took some time to register what Tifa was saying earlier.

_Has Tifa been thinking about that all this time?_

He could've just told her that it was an unnecessary thought, but this was _Tifa _they were talking about. Tifa who always put everything before her, Tifa who never gave up on him, Tifa who had _always _let him hurt her, and forgave him no matter how painful it was.

Surely, Aerith's death had grieved him—and the others—badly, but if it was Tifa instead…

He turned to watch her once more and a sudden pang of guilt hit his chest.

He wouldn't have survived. He wouldn't have saved the planet if Tifa was not there with him. She had alwaysbeen with him practically as long as they were alive, stubbornly standing by his side even after she left him—and his family—behind for God knows how long.

And yet he had _always _hurt her.

He felt no apology would make him be forgiven now.

"I'm sorry, Tifa." he spoke out. He promised himself he would settle things down tomorrow, right after she opened her eyes.

Tifa needed to know how much she meant to him, that no one else could ever replace her.


End file.
